black & blue
by twelveoclock
Summary: CABIN PRESSURE. The first time Martin Crieff tries to kill himself, he's thirteen and convinced that it can't get much worse. Even after he wakes up in the hospital surrounded by machines measuring out his life in numbers and variables, no one asks him if he's okay.


**WARNINGS:** suicide attempts, depression, dysfunctional family

The first time Martin Crieff tries to kill himself, he's thirteen and convinced that it can't get much worse.

His mother has just run out again, his father's drinking his weight in beer, and Simon and Caitlin had left him to fend for himself. He hears the _crash_ of a beer bottle hitting the wall and all he wants to do is run away and leave and get away from all the _noise-_

His hands shake as he fumbles with the caps on the prescription medication his mother keeps in the medicine cupboard, and the only thoughts moving through his mind as he tips his head back and feels the slide of the pills down his throat is _oh god take it all away_.

Then his head starts spinning and he's flying.

When he wakes up, he's surrounded by beeping machines and the faint smell of antiseptic, and his first thought is _oh god how did i end up here how will i explain this-_ when he notices his mother sitting beside him and his thoughts stutter to a halt.

She doesn't say anything but just looks at him while he tries desperately to not notice how suffocating the silence is and _oh should i say something i should say something yes_.

In the end, she just gives him a disappointed look, and leaves.

No one asks him if he's okay.

It's another two years until she files for divorce.

His father eventually crawls out of his alcoholism long enough to hold a job.

All Martin wants is to feel weightless and unbound again.

He never tells anyone about it, but he still sees his father's disapproving frown when he applies to flight school.

The second time Martin Crieff tries to kill himself is when he gets the news that his father has passed away.

He's already stopped keeping track of the number of flight schools that have rejected him and the number of times he's failed at getting his license. But when he gets the phone call about his father, he hits a brick wall. He quietly hangs up the phone, and stares blankly at the walls of his tiny apartment, and tries to figure out how he should feel.

It doesn't get any better when he finds out what was written in his father's will.

He takes the toolkit and the multimeter, though, mostly out of a sense of obligation. They sit in a corner of his apartment, and he tries his best not to look at them.

A week later, he finally cracks. His father never expressly gave his disapproval of his career attempts, but now _this_. It wasn't like Simon or Caitlin believed in him either, but there was nothing else in the world that Martin wanted but to feel so free again.

He's more prepared now.

Unlocking the desk drawer, he draws out the gun and slides the barrel into his mouth.

The sound of the shot being fired barely reaches his ears when he's flying.

It takes longer to touch down this time.

When he comes to, he's in another hospital room.

His landlady had heard the shot being fired, and rushed in to find him collapsed on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

He mainly feels empty.

It takes him longer to recover this time, but eventually he leaves the hospital and finds a new place to live, in the attic of a shared house. It's another three months before he manages to get his pilot's license and it's a wave of relief.

Martin's tired of being a failure.

So he keeps looking for a job and refuses to give up on his one and only dream, even at the risk of low wages and subsiding on rice and pasta.

So when he finally finds a small charter airline that's looking for a pilot, he jumps on the opportunity. He goes in for the interview dressed in his nicest clothes (which aren't really all that nice. They're a bit too small for him, and the sleeves don't reach down all the way but he doesn't have the money to afford nice clothes, so he makes do) and meets an intimidating elderly lady who has sharp words and they manage to work out a deal. He stutters through the entire thing, but he walks out with a job, and that's all he really needs.

He comes in on the first day, and almost walks out when he sees the aeroplane. It's a Lockheed McDonnell 312, but it's fairly battered and has definitely seen better days. But he reminds himself that there aren't many chances he gets, and takes a deep breath and walks in to meet the rest of the crew.

Douglas is sharp and cutting and reminds him of his father in more ways than one. They both share the talent of shooting him down with a single sentence, and he resents them both for it. He tries desperately to bolster himself with his newly gained title and clutches blindly at anything he can hold onto.

He finds out that it isn't much.

Arthur is, thankfully, entirely different. Young and naive despite his age, he kind of reminds Martin of the boy he could have been. Granted, it's a bit odd to think that about a twenty-eight year old man, but it's comforting none the less.

It takes some time, but he finds that Douglas's words are not as grating as they used to be, and Arthur is pleasant company even when they're riding in a stiflingly hot baggage car on the way to find a possibly incompetent engineer.

He settles into a routine with them quickly. There's always a nagging feeling that he's two steps behind, but he pushes them away and settles for asking for an explanation for all the things he's apparently missed, like Arthur's Christmas routine and the Caroline's mostly absent ex-husband.

And then somewhere in between it all, he realizes that he's happy.

It no longer feels as if he's suffocating.

The rush of lifting off the ground still floors him every time, but it's no longer all that he lives for.

And he's okay, really.


End file.
